


All Wrapped Up In You

by XiuChen4Ever



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Blood and Injury, Exhibitionism, Half-Human Hybrids, Injury Recovery, M/M, Polyamory, Surgery, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-18 22:35:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22434277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XiuChen4Ever/pseuds/XiuChen4Ever
Summary: After Minseok and Jongdae stop on a rainy night to help an injured stranger, they find themselves in an unusual—but very satisfying—arrangement.
Relationships: Kim Jongdae | Chen/Kim Minseok | Xiumin, Kim Jongdae | Chen/Kim Minseok | Xiumin/Oh Sehun
Comments: 30
Kudos: 163
Collections: Unrestricted Love Poly Fic Fest





	All Wrapped Up In You

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Unrestricted Love Polyfest Round One, prompt AU032.

# ♡꯳♡

“There is your light, light, light, into my crumpled heart! Life is like a rainfall, like a rainfall—”

Minseok rolls his eyes above a poorly-suppressed smile as his husband sings along to the stereo. He doesn’t need to look over at him to know that Jongdae’s giving him an over-sincere gaze through his long dark lashes, holding some random item up to his face to use as a faux microphone as he cheeses it up. And that’s good, because Minseok refuses to take his eyes off the road. Safety is always his number one concern, and tonight it’s raining heavily. The road is slick and the range rover’s headlights can’t penetrate the sheets of monsoon rain that are falling from the starless sky.

“Hyung, watch out!”

Jongdae’s singing is cut off with this bark of alarm but Minseok’s already seen it, is already braking firmly, holding the wheel straight and steady as the anti-lock feature kicks in, thudding rhythmically to keep the brakes from locking up.

“What the fuck is that? A fallen tree?” Jongdae leans closer to the windshield, as if the extra thirty centimeters will somehow make the raindrops part enough for him to see clearly.

“I… don’t think so?” Minseok does the same dumb thing. 

The road is blocked completely by something cylindrical that seems to be about thirty centimeters thick although it gently tapers over the width of the road. The mottled gray color is interrupted at regular intervals by white bands that stretch about halfway down the sides. And these traits are all notable enough, but that’s not what Minseok’s staring at.

Whatever’s across the road shines wetly in the high beams, light reflecting off the edges of what appear to be _scales._

When Jongdae reaches for the door handle, Minseok punches the child-lock button faster than he’s ever done anything in his life.

“Dae,” he almost whispers. “Dae, is that a huge-ass fucking _snake?”_

Minseok considers himself relatively unflappable. Sure, he’s convinced pigeons are hell’s feathered demons sent to mob him to death in a hail of cooing and down and birdshit, but everyone has their _thing._ Minseok’s _thing_ has never been snakes. He’s fine with reptiles, bugs, and most other creepy-crawlies.

But he’s never before personally encountered any animal big enough to literally swallow him whole.

Jongdae puffs air through his lips in fond derision. “Minseokkie-hyung, even in Seoraksan, snakes don’t get that big outside of CGI,” he scoffs. “It’s probably some sort of piping or support structure blown around by the storm.”

There are two problems with that hypothesis. The first one is that they’re traversing through a wide grassy stretch of the national park they’re responsible for overseeing. There aren’t any man-made structures nearby that any unusual construction material could have come from.

And the second one—and this is the major issue—is that the supposed piping fucking _moves._

It’s just a little bit but Minseok knows what he saw. The entire length rippled, slipping a little further across the road, so that one of the white markings is no longer above the dirt road but instead is half-hidden in the grass beside it.

“Hyung?” Jongdae shifts away from the windshield and slightly toward Minseok. His expression has gone from dismissive to wary and alert. “Maybe we should turn around? Or call someone for backup?”

“There’s no time for that,” Minseok says, pulling the parking brake and unbuckling his seatbelt. 

He wishes he had the rifle, the tranq gun, the bear spray, hell, any of their proper park warden kit. But they’re on the way back from a charity event where their vehicle was open for kids to sit in and use the radio and wear ranger hats, all that PR goodness that gets their parents to donate to maintain the park. All the range rover’s storage racks are full of plastic park ranger badges and endangered-animal stickers. 

But a warden’s job is to help in any circumstances, so he thumbs his smartphone to turn the flashlight on, then grabs the windshield scraper from beneath his seat. It’s not much of a weapon but Minseok’s not brave enough to go out there with _nothing._

And go out there he must, because as his eyes followed the ripple along the scales they scanned the high grass at the side of the road for some clue as to what he was really looking at. And therefore he’d seen what looked an awful lot like a human torso flip out of the grass only to fall back down, one arm moving against the direction of motion as if bracing against the impending impact with the ground.

“There’s a person out there,” he tells his husband. “I know you’re not going to stay in the rover while I see if they can be helped, but just be fucking careful. Whatever this is, whatever the fuck’s happening, I’m not losing you, Dae.”

Jongdae leans over to share a quick kiss. “I’m not losing you, either,” he says with finality. 

Then he grabs his own phone and repurposes the ballpoint pen he’d been using as a microphone, holding it in his fist like a dagger.

Armed with nothing more than their courage, sense of duty, and some flimsy plastic, the couple follows the path of the high beams to face the unknown.

# ♡꯳♡

When Jongdae first sees the body lying in the grass at the end of what’s looking more and more like a massive fucking snake he assumes it’s being swallowed whole, feet first. Except the snake doesn’t have a head. Or rather, the snake has a human head. On top of a human torso. That looks for all the world to be growing right out of the snake’s body.

“What the absolute fuckery?” Minseok breathes beside him, holding the windshield scraper like a club.

They jump back like cats faced with cucumbers when the human torso rolls over with a groan, slitting open an eye and lifting a hand against the glare of their phone lights.

There’s a moment of mutual blinking, then the man… snake… snake-man? recoils back from the human couple in what would probably have been an equally dramatic startle reaction if it weren’t for the huge fucking hole in his abdomen. 

The guy—Jongdae can’t see a dick or anything but the torso has chiseled abs and a muscular rather than rounded chest—has one hand pressed against the gaping wound, which may be holding his guts in but sure isn’t stopping the blood from running down to his elbow and dripping steadily into the grass. The man-snake hisses at them, revealing sharp teeth and a forked tongue. But he can’t keep it up for very long, because his jaw is trembling. His whole torso is trembling, actually. Shivering, to be precise.

“Snakes are cold-blooded,” Jongdae blurts, all his concern transferring from himself and his husband to the cold, injured creature before them.

“Shit,” Minseok says. “We’ve gotta get him warmed up. And stitched up. Fuck, is he gonna fit in the rover?”

“I’ll fold the back seats down and roll up as close as I can,” Jongdae says as he stands up.

“Back in,” Minseok suggests. “It’ll probably be easier for him to slither in through the tailgate.”

In the time it takes Jongdae to flip the seats down and back the rover over, Minseok has stripped to his skivvies, wadding up his dress shirt to press against the wound and tying the legs of his slacks tightly over top to hold it in place. This means the snake-dude has two free arms, which he uses to weakly push himself away from Jongdae when he runs toward the pair.

“It’s okay, pal,” Minseok murmurs. “This is Jongdae. He wants to help you, too. We’re going to take you somewhere warm and dry and safe, okay?”

The snake-dude’s eyes are rolling wildly with anxiety and his forked tongue keeps flicking between his bared fangs, but he doesn’t protest when Minseok and Jongdae each slowly drape one of his arms across their shoulders, hauling him up and attempting to drag him over to the vehicle.

“Fuck, you’re heavy,” Jongdae pants. “Can you help us a bit? Slither a little or something?”

The guy evidently understands Korean because he shimmies his hips a bit—or what would be his hips if he had legs, at least—groaning weakly as his abdomen stretches in the process. But it does the job—his snakey body undulates enough to propel him the few meters toward the vehicle.

He balks a little when they try to help him inside, face reflecting the same _what the fuck is going on here_ that’s been on a constant loop in Jongdae’s own head.

“It’s alright,” Minseok soothes. “Our vehicle wasn’t designed for someone of your… proportions. And it’s probably going to hurt to crawl through there and curl up, and I’m sorry for that. We’ll help you as much as we can, okay? Just go slowly.”

“It’ll be nice and warm in there soon,” Jongdae adds. “I turned the heat all the way up for you.”

The snake-dude looks at each of them for long considering moments, then leans toward the hatch. Jongdae and Minseok do what little they can to help the injured guy out as he hisses and undulates, squirming into the vehicle in slow, staccato movements.

When the tip of the serpentine tail is tucked safely inside, Jongdae carefully shuts the hatchback and they scramble to enter the front seats of the vehicle, Minseok once again behind the wheel. Jongdae twists around in his seat to watch their passenger breathe laboriously, torso cradled by his own coils.

“Hakyeon and Taekwoon hyungs?” Jongdae asks his husband as he releases the parking brake.

Minseok nods. “I don’t know who else could help.”

Jongdae flicks through his contacts and calls Hakyeon-hyung. The veterinarian is more likely to be home at this hour than his surgeon husband. They live just outside the park, closer to the city, but since Minseok knows Hakyeon-hyung from uni, he’s the vet they always call whenever they find an injured animal in the park. Not that the guy in the back of the rover is an animal— 

“Jongdae?”

“Hakyeon-hyung, I’m glad you answered.” Jongdae looks over his shoulder at the snake-dude panting softly behind him. “Um. Minseok-hyung and I might have a patient for you. Or your husband. I mean you’re the snake expert, but Taekwoon-hyung does the abdominal surgery and that’s the part that’s human so—”

“Jongdae-yah, slow down. What’s this about a patient?”

Minseok lets go of the wheel with one hand just long enough to give his husband’s knee a supportive squeeze as Jongdae takes a few deep breaths.

“We found this huge snake. I mean, this guy. Well, this guy who’s part snake? And he’s hurt.”

There’s silence on the other end of the line for long enough that Jongdae starts to worry that the weather has disrupted the call or something.

“You found a guy who’s part snake?” Hakyeon repeats slowly.

“Yes.”

“Have you been drinking?”

Jongdae snorts. “No, hyung.”

“Then what do you mean, part snake?”

“I mean that he looks like a merman but his bottom half is a snake instead of a fish. He’s a snake-merman. A snerman.”

“Lamia.”

Jongdae and Minseok both startle at the weak, breathy voice from the back of the rover. Still holding the phone to his ear, Jongdae twists around to look at the injured creature. He opens and closes his mouth several times in rapid succession as questions tumble through his head without tumbling out between his lips.

The snake-guy rolls his eyes. “I’m not a ‘snerman.’ I’m a lamia.”

“Oh,” Jongdae says. 

“What was that?” Hakyeon’s voice interrupts Jongdae’s continued gaping.

Jongdae shakes himself. “Uh, he just said he’s a lamia. Not a snerman.”

“That’s… not something we learned about in vet school,” Hakyeon says wryly.

“Please, Hyung. He’s bleeding and we have no idea where else to take him.” His brow furrows and he looks back at the self-described lamia. “Uh, sorry—you are a ‘him,’ right?”

The lamia nods, a faint smile touching his lips. “I’m called Ssehun.”

“His name is Ssehun, and he looks like he’s in a lot of pain. You’ll help him, right, hyung?” Jongdae wheedles.

Hakyeon sighs. “I can’t walk away from a creature in need. And neither can Taekwoon. Bring this ‘lamia’ to the vet clinic and I’ll see what I can do.”

# ♡꯳♡

Minseok has known Hakyeon since university, having met on the intramural futsal team. They’d hit it off right away, the engineer and the pre-vet student bonding over taxing coursework. They’d had a regular study session at a coffee house near campus, and Minseok had enjoyed watching his pal try to flirt with the taciturn, intensely-focused barista. 

Eventually Minseok had taken pity on the pair. He’d visited the shop one day without Hakyeon and straight out told the oblivious barista that his friend wasn’t trying to be a pest, he was trying to get the guy’s attention. That Hakyeon was genuinely interested but always stopped short of asking the barista out because he got such ambiguous reactions to his flirting.

The barista had blinked at him, then served his drink without comment. But the next time Minseok and Hakyeon met up at the cafe, Hakyeon’s chai latte had a heart in it instead of a leaf design and there was a phone number written on his cup.

A few months later, Hakyeon had strong-armed Minseok into coming with him to attend the end-of-semester recital put on by the vocal performance department. Taekwoon had a minor in music and Hakyeon was determined to be the supportive boyfriend and watch him sing. And there Jongdae had been, with a devil’s smirk and an angel’s voice. After that, it was Hakyeon’s turn to enjoy Minseok’s occasionally-awkward attempts to catch his crush’s eye.

It’s this close association with the veterinarian that allows Minseok to nonchalantly step out of the rover in nothing but his boxer briefs. And to watch Hakyeon’s face go from surprised to concerned to determined and understand his friend was entering what Minseok liked to fondly call “battle mode.” Ssehun was about to get the best possible care Hakyeon could provide, but since the man was used to working with animals it would be up to Minseok to provide the bedside manner.

“Ssehun, this is my friend Hakyeon,” Minseok introduces when the three of them have helped the lamia carefully work his way out of the back of the SUV. “He’s going to work hard for you. Jongdae and I will both be right with you the whole time even if you can’t see us, and I’ll try to explain what he’s doing if it’ll ease your mind.”

Ssehun nods, allowing the men to escort him into the clinic. He hefts his human torso onto an exam table, hissing softly as Hakyeon cuts away the bloody fabric of Minseok’s ruined clothes.

“Grab yourself a set of scrubs, Min—don’t make the rest of us look frail by standing around with your abs on display like that.”

Minseok rolls his eyes at his friend, then looks down at Ssehun. “Hakyeon’s gonna just clean you off a bit while I grab some new clothes. I’ll be right back.” 

He pats Ssehun’s shoulder before stepping away to raid the staff room for a set of scrubs (kitten print, much to Minseok’s chagrin). When he returns, Ssehun’s panting shallowly as he looks down at the hole in his abdomen, Jongdae clinging to his hand and looking greenish almost as if he’s needing comfort rather than providing it.

“Ssehun, Dae—look at me.” Minseok steps close and takes Ssehun’s other hand, angling his shoulder to interfere with the injured guy’s ability to look down at himself.

Jongdae snorts upon seeing Minseok’s attire, so Minseok takes advantage of the distraction to pout down at Ssehun. “He doesn’t think this pattern suits me. Don’t you think I look cute with kittens on?”

Ssehun’s glassy eyes focus on the scrub top, then his gaze slides to Minseok’s face. “You… look… just like them,” he huffs, one corner of his lips tugging into a grimace or a smile.

Minseok smiles in acceptance as Jongdae chuckles. Using his free hand, Minseok smooths some of Ssehun’s black hair off his forehead, then continues to stroke the rain-slicked locks since Ssehun closes his eyes in response to the touch.

“Is this your only injury?” Hakyeon asks from over Minseok’s shoulder.

Ssehun huffs, eyes still closed. “Isn’t that enough?”

Hakyeon laughs. “More than. I just don’t want to miss something—there’s, well. A lot of you to look over.”

“My scales are better protection than my softer skin,” Ssehun explains. “There are bruises and scratches, but no other holes.”

“Better protection from what?” Jongdae asks.

“Fangthrowers.”

“Those… sound nasty.” Minseok winces.

“Exceedingly,” Ssehun agrees. “I had to tear the fang out—the shaft was too long for me to fit through the narrow tunnels without dislodging it.”

“There is an extensive amount of soft tissue damage,” Hakyeon agrees. “I think your liver is ruptured, which explains all the blood, except it’s in the wrong place and way bigger than a mammal’s. And it looks like your colon might be perforated, which is an invitation for peritonitis—is that your colon? But you have all that—” he gestures at Ssehun’s coils. “—to keep intestines in, so is this actually your esophagus? And where the fuck are your lungs?” Hakyeon shakes his head. “I need to take some radiographs, maybe an ultrasound to actually figure out what your anatomy is, and then I probably need to take you to surgery. But I have no idea what doses of what medications you’ll tolerate, which is why I haven’t offered you anything for the pain.” He looks over at Ssehun apologetically.

“I can endure pain,” Ssehun says, squeezing Minseok’s hand more firmly. “Lamia metabolism is rather slow compared to you warmbloods, so your drugs would likely take longer to take effect than any sewing up you need to do.”

“It’s not just sewing up, it’s cleaning out,” Hakyeon explains. “But we can test some local anesthetics—they’d last longer than they would in a typical mammal if your metabolism is slower. So perhaps they’ll be enough. Let’s get you to X-ray to make sure I’m not missing anything, then we can set up for surgery as soon as Taek gets here. He’s the human expert, and you’re at least partly that, so. Let me just—”

Ssehun yelps and jumps as Hakyeon sticks a pair of hemostats into the wound and clamps the pincers over a bleeding vessel.

“Sorry! Sorry. That ought to keep most of what’s left of your blood inside you for the time being. Uh… do lamias have blood types? I’ll make some slides, do some hematology… Maybe one of us can donate some blood…”

Hakyeon pulls a glass microscope slide out of a drawer and smears some of Ssehun’s blood over it. Then he wanders out of the room still muttering to himself.

“He’s just gonna leave that there…?” Jongdae asks, staring at the silver handles sticking out of Ssehun’s gut.

“Only until he can do surgery. Let’s get our new pal to the X-ray room so that when Hakyeon remembers he wanted those, we’ll already be there.”

Minseok goes to help Ssehun… sit? Fold upwards? Lift his torso up off the steel table, at least. But the lamia grips his hand tighter, looking from him to Jongdae and back again.

“Thank you,” he says. “They always teach us your kind are monsters, but so far you’ve been nothing but kind to me.”

“Of course we have,” Minseok dismisses. “You’re one of the creatures of Seoraksan, so you’re our responsibility.”

“We’d have helped you even if it weren’t our job, though,” Jongdae adds. “It’s just—helping someone in need is just the decent thing to do.”

“Well. Where I come from, rather the opposite can be expected,” Ssehun says with a wry smile. “So I appreciate the help.”

# ♡꯳♡

Jongdae can’t help but smile back down at the injured lamia. Ssehun is proving to be polite and witty, tough and appreciative. The fact that he has a long-ass—no ass?—scaly body is seeming less and less important. Sure, there’s a not-insignificant part of Jongdae’s brain that’s screaming _snake people do not exist!_ But he’s managing to mostly hold at bay the _why_ and _how_ and _oh my god there’s more of them and they have weapons and they’re going to come after this dude and kill us all with fucking fangthrowers what the fucking fuck._

That is a problem for later. Right now they have to make sure this particular snake person—lamia—will survive. _Then_ they can figure out all the rest. And/or Jongdae can go shut himself in a small room alone and shriek the panic from his body. Or collapse. Maybe both.

He does his best to keep it together as they help Ssehun to the radiology room, greet Taekwoon-hyung, do various tests on the impossible snake dude— _lamia—_ and then Jongdae finds himself flanking Ssehun’s head with Minseok, each holding a hand, as the still-conscious lamia endures surgery. At least they were able to numb him somewhat. And they put up a screen so none of the three non-medical-professionals can see what’s being done to Ssehun’s evidently rather non-standard insides.

According to the X-rays, Ssehun’s human torso contains his three-chambered reptilian heart— _way_ bigger than a human heart, taking up all of his lungless chest—and the top of his massive liver. His trachea and super-stretchy esophagus follow his spine into the snakier part of his body, where his stomach, lungs—one after the other, rather than side by side—kidneys, intestines, and so on are located.

It would be much more fascinating if the medical professionals weren’t learning as they go from a patient with a hole in him. 

As they work to stop the internal bleeding in a way that doesn’t involve a clamp sticking out of him forever, Ssehun’s handsome face distorts with discomfort. A jaw shift. An eyebrow twitch. Furrowed brow. Lip between teeth. And occasional little grunts and huffs that make Jongdae really really grateful for the shield of the screen.

“Would it be okay if I sang to him?” Jongdae blurts at his surgically-masked hyungs. “I-I mean, Ssehun, do you think it would help? I mean, it might be a distraction…”

“We’re fine with it,” Taekwoon-hyung says. 

Ssehun shrugs. 

That’s all the permission Jongdae needs. He smiles down at Ssehun, going with a sweet bluesy love song with the hopes it will be somewhat soothing.

“You who is looking up at me, words conveyed by eyes, all day long I’m pained by my longing for you. The temperature that I’ve desperately desired, now cozy comfort. The small breath I feel on my shoulder is just like that of a child.”

Ssehun’s eyes close as Jongdae sings, face not entirely relaxed but seemingly more peaceful, the occasional twitch or wince still distorting the handsome guy’s features. Minseok runs soothing fingers through Ssehun’s hair as Jongdae squeezes his hand and sings, doing his best to create a little bubble of comfort around the injured lamia.

“If I hold you, I feel like all the moments in the world exist exactly for me, only for me. Do my arms feel that way to you? To the point where all you can hear is my heart, I will hold you even tighter than that.”

“That should do it,” Taekwoon-hyung says when Jongdae finishes the final refrain. “Just gonna rinse away as much contamination as we can, then sew you up nice and tidy.”

“I’ll let Taek do that,” Hakyeon laughs. “I usually stitch up critters with fur to cover them, so scars aren’t something I’m trained to minimize. In the mean time, I’ll try to figure out what antibiotics might safely work for you—we don’t want any residual contamination to give you sepsis.” 

The veterinarian takes off his gloves and mask, tossing them in the trash while muttering to himself. “Usually I’d go with enrofloxacin, but that’s no good for humans so maybe gentamycin with metronidazole…” 

Jongdae can hear Taekwoon-hyung’s chuckle from the other side of the screen. “I love that man, he’s brilliant, but he’d never survive in a human hospital.”

“Good thing he doesn’t have to,” Minseok agrees.

“Indeed.” 

Jongdae gets through one more song and then Taekwoon is snapping his gloves off as well.

“Speaking of survival, Ssehun, you should be okay if we can avoid infection. I’d say to try not to move your belly too much until it heals, but, well, it rather seems you’re mostly belly in one form or another, so. Just take it as easy as you can.”

Ssehun nods, letting Jongdae and Minseok help him upright, gazing down at the tidy line of stitches where the hole in his abdomen used to be. “Thank you. I would offer you some reward, but a deposed prince has no treasury.”

Taekwoon laughs. “No payment necessary—we’re just glad we could help. I’d better go track down Hakyeon and see what’s become of your medication.” 

Jongdae blinks at the statuesque lamia as the surgeon exits the room. “You’re a prince?” 

Ssehun’s smile is wry. “Well. Not anymore.”

“That sucks.”

“Honestly, the fact that I’m still alive and looking likely to stay that way is a far better outcome than I’d ever hoped for. In any royal clutch, only one can rule. The siblicide starts in childhood, but as the last to hatch it was considered poor sport to pick on me until either I proved myself a threat or the current regent died.”

Jongdae is sure his husband’s gape of horror is mirrored on his own face. “So… your own family tried to kill you?”

“That’s how it always is. The colony can’t support more than one ruler, so the extras are eliminated. And this way, the one who coils around the crown is always the strongest, best able to protect their colony from the others.”

“How many colonies are there?” Minseok asks. “And, um. Where are they?”

“Maybe a dozen colonies remain, beneath the earth or in the wilds,” Ssehun answers. “Except _your_ colony has taken many of the wilds, so more and more of us shelter underground.”

“In Geumganggul cave?”

Ssehun nods. “And in deeper caverns, well beyond where you scurriers can reach with noise and filth.”

Minseok winces. “Sorry. We humans can be very greedy. But that’s why we’re here—I mean, my husband and I. We’re the caretakers of Seoraksan National Park. It’s set aside to remain natural, for the enjoyment of humans but also for the preservation of the other creatures we share the planet with.” Minseok smiles up at Ssehun. “So please, no more talk of payment. Meeting someone like yourself is enough reward, so we’re happy to help you heal up and return to your people. Or maybe another tribe, if you’re not welcome in your own?”

Ssehun shakes his head. “If I return to my own colony, my second-eldest sister will surely kill me. As would any other tribe—we occasionally trade with other colonies but we are not capable of interbreeding. So there’s no reason to support an outsider who cannot contribute to the future of the colony even should they prove themselves worthy of doing so.” He smiles again, small lips tight. “Hopefully they will believe me dead—I fed the stone enough of my blood. Perhaps it will convince them I crawled away to die, and as long as I do not return, I will be left for dead.” 

When Minseok tosses him a questioning glance, Jongdae nods. He knows what his big-hearted husband is about to offer.

“In that case, you can stay with us. We have plenty of room—if you prefer a cave, there are plenty of blind ones that don’t connect to any others. But you coil up so neatly. You’d fit in our home just fine, if you’d prefer that.”

Ssehun’s tiny smile broadens in the face of Minseok’s earnest eyes and Jongdae’s murmur of agreement. “Well. I am uncomfortable beneath the open sky, but if your home is covered over like this square human habitat, I would certainly prefer company to solitude. Well. Company that doesn’t seek to end my life, that is.”

“You’re not allowed to die,” Jongdae says firmly. “Do you think you can get back to the SUV without hurting your belly?”

“I am willing to try it,” Ssehun says, cradling his abdomen with his forearms and undulating his serpentine body until his humanoid torso is held high enough that the nearby muscles aren’t directly involved in producing movement. He looks rather like a cobra reared up high to strike, except his scales are way too flashy to be one of those—or so Jongdae hopes.

“Uh, just so we know, are you, like, venomous or something?”

Ssehun shakes his head. “Were my colony gifted with toxins, the fangthrower would surely have been lethal. But we are grapplers—we generally prefer to entangle, pin, and strangle rather than make cowardly strikes and wait for venom to do the work. My sister only shot me because I am swifter than she, and I would not allow her to get close enough to crush me.”

“And we thought dynastic succession among humanity was vicious,” Minseok huffs. “Well. Can I safely assume you won’t pin and strangle us if we add you to our home?”

“I have considered it,” Ssehun says as casually as Jongdae may have mentioned what he’d planned for lunch. “But you have saved my life, so it seems the least I can do is grant you yours as well. You have not threatened to take me to your colony leader for execution or imprisonment, so I do not feel as though you represent a threat.” 

He smiles wide enough to reveal gleaming fangs, more than a bit terrifying whether venomous or not. “Besides, you seem very interesting. My kind either avoid yours or prey upon them—it amuses me to befriend you instead. I am not supposed to be alive, but I am, so I will continue to ignore what my former life dictated I was _supposed_ to do.”

Jongdae doesn’t precisely find that reassuring, but Minseok nods in understanding. “You seem very interesting, too. Jongdae and I didn’t exactly live up to our family’s expectations, either—few parents dream of their children becoming park wardens in the middle of nowhere. And then I went and married another man, seducing him away from his soul-sucking career as a defense lawyer for scumbags and forcing him to live in a grass hut like a savage.”

“We don’t actually have a grass hut,” Jongdae hastens to add at Ssehun’s bemused face. “We have a nice, landscape-complimenting cabin, all aligned with nature and solar powered and so on. But it is true that our parents, while they’d never say so, do rather consider us disappointments. So perhaps the three of us can defy our families together.”

Ssehun smiles down at them, no less sincerely for being so fangy. “I think I would like that.”

# ♡꯳♡

Minseok pilots the range rover as carefully as he can, avoiding any ruts or potholes in the dirt road that may jostle their serpentine patient. Once again he’s coiled in the back, cradling his human torso among his coils rather like someone might lounge in an amusement park inner tube. If they actually _were_ the inner tube.

It’s more than enough to blow a guy’s mind.

It’s certainly enough to agitate Jongdae, who is doing a decent job of looking calm and collected and not at all bothered about the fact that they’re transporting an impossibly huge snake (who is also impossibly a man) to their humble home and planning to let it inside. Where they sleep. 

But Minseok knows his husband well, and his usual energetic wiggling has been replaced by anxiety-driven fidgeting, too low-key to be annoying but enough to give his current state of mind away.

If the weather were better, Minseok would consider resting a reassuring hand on Jongdae’s bouncing knee. But the best he can do is let their chill playlist flow gently from the rover’s speakers, humming along softly. The humming is also for his own benefit, a soothing melody in counterpoint to the manic thoughts circling through his head. Mostly a constant refrain of _this is impossible but it’s happening but it’s impossible..._

He’s more grateful than usual to see their cabin come into view, sandy walls and full-length windows illuminated by the headlights. It’s not the biggest, but it’s roomy enough, and it’s theirs. Their little love nest, now a den for an injured lamia. Ssehun clearly exists—his friends had seen him, operated on him, shot him full of antibiotics to keep him from getting sick—so Minseok decides it’s easiest for his mental health to merely accept and adapt. Ssehun is here, he’s theirs to care for, so care for him they will.

“Probably easiest to go in through the patio door,” Minseok says as he opens the tailgate for Ssehun.

Shivering in the sudden chill of the rainy night air, Ssehun nods, lifting his torso high again before slithering in the direction Minseok indicates.

By the time Ssehun’s tail clears the trunk, his torso has reached the kitchen, patio door opened for him by a speechless Jongdae. Minseok shuts the trunk and follows the lamia’s tail into the house and then into the living room. 

“You can rest on the sofa—well, _some_ of you can rest on the sofa, if you want. Otherwise, uh, you’re welcome to curl up anywhere,” Jongdae says, turning to rummage in the living room closet. “We have a bunch of sleeping bags and stuff, maybe even an air mattress somewhere—”

Ssehun laughs. “The royal bedchamber is a nice warm hollow near a natural hot spring,” he says. “The stone is so smooth that a scale would never snag, even if drawn backward.” 

He looks around at the polished wooden floors and plush sofa, at the unzipped sleeping bags Jongdae’s draping over Ssehun’s coils. “Really, you will spoil me with all this softness—and that coming from the coddled youngest prince.”

Minseok smiles. “We humans are a soft bunch,” he says, smiling at his husband’s efforts at tucking Ssehun in. “Would you like anything to eat? A drink?” He frowns. “Uh. Do you need to relieve yourself?”

“No, thank you—my stomach still doesn’t feel up to food. I only need to eat every ten or twenty days, depending on how large the meal is. I do drink more often than that, but I don’t need to release waste more often than every five days or so.”

Minseok blinks. “Well then. Is there anything else I can get you?” 

Ssehun smiles as Jongdae finishes his tucking-in by standing on tiptoes and draping the couch blanket over the lamia’s shoulders. “Honestly, with all this attention I feel more like royalty than I ever have. You taste exhausted. Please, sleep.”

“Taste?” Jongdae asks, quirking his brows.

Ssehun’s forked tongue flickers out and in again. “Yes. Very tired. And Jongdae needs to eliminate.”

“Okay, that’s super creepy,” Jongdae says, stepping back a little. “Please don’t _taste_ that I have to pee.”

“I can’t stop unless I stop breathing,” Ssehun laughs. “But there’s no need for shame regarding your body’s natural condition.”

Minseok wraps his arms around his perturbed husband from behind. “We humans are weird about our bodies. Elimination is a private thing, something we generally don’t discuss.”

“I wasn’t suggesting a discussion,” Ssehun laughs. “I’m just built to be aware of my surroundings. It’s strange to us that humans are so oblivious. Though it does make you easy to hunt.”

“But you’re not going to hunt us,” Jongdae says. “Even when you are hungry, right? We’ll get you food, you don’t need to hunt anyone.”

“I prefer to catch my own prey,” Ssehun says. “But my colony generally does not prey on yours—too much work to strip you of all your indigestible coverings and you often make us ill anyway. We prefer the little fanged riverhooves.”

“Water deer?” Jongdae curls a lip. “Help yourself in that case, they’re everywhere and since this is a protected park, most human hunting isn’t allowed. We don’t have enough predators yet to keep their numbers down, so one disappearing twice a month or so would actually be kinda helpful.”

“I will,” Ssehun says. “But not until I am healed. I will probably sleep a lot while I recover—it is normal for my kind, so please don’t be alarmed.”

“Noted,” Minseok says. 

Shaking his head once more at the impossibility of a snakey dude curled up in their living room beneath every sleeping bag they have, Minseok ushers his husband upstairs to bed and sucks all the fidgeting and anxiety right out of him—nothing worse than trying to sleep next to a restless Jongdae. 

# ♡꯳♡

The pile of snakey coils in the living room doesn’t move at all for six days. Jongdae knows, because not a single sleeping bag shifts out of place. They peek in on him in the morning before starting the day’s tasks, and again in the evening when they come home. Ssehun’s always the same—tucked into his own coils, breathing much more slowly than a human would, peacefully asleep. 

It’s much easier to get used to the lamia’s presence—his very existence—when he’s just a non-threatening lump of multicolored fabric. And he’s really quite cute, in a way. Their little escaped royal murder victim, because it’s not enough for snake-people to exist, they have to have a vast, complicated, brutal society that humans as a whole seem to know nothing about. No big deal. No “now that you know, I have to kill you” nonsense. Jongdae’s sure as fuck not going to tell anyone, because they’d declare him crazy without proof and the proof is in their living room under their protection. After working so hard to save him, Jongdae’s not about to let scientists chop the guy up, let human governments go to war with the creatures beneath the ground, nothing good can come of making this all public knowledge.

After rolling it around in his head, Jongdae starts to think about the lamias like he does the tigers of Seoraksan. They’d moved down from the DMZ, expanding into this newly-protected range, and the few people who know about this certainly aren’t going to tell anyone else, and especially not the public. Everyone thinks tigers have died out in South Korea, and it’s in their best interests if it stays that way. If people knew they existed, they’d hunt them for prestige or medicine or out of fear, and so Minseok and Jongdae enjoy their slowly growing population without any press attention. 

They can enjoy their exiled prince the same way. Well, it might be more enjoyable if he ever woke up.

Just as Jongdae’s really starting to worry, the pile of sleeping bags is abandoned one evening when they return from their trail maintenance. And just when Jongdae’s starting to panic about _that,_ Ssehun comes slithering in from the direction of the lake, hair wet, body damp. Rather like the night they’d met, except that Ssehun’s in one piece and smiling contentedly.

And he has a rather large lump below his human torso. 

“I see you had a little snack?” Jongdae asks, lifting a brow as the lamia comes to a stop in front of the patio door.

“I did. I ate it very slowly so as not to hurt myself, but everything seems to be in order.”

“And you swam in the lake?” Minseok asks, having already fetched a towel to save his hardwood floors from Ssehun’s dripping hair.

“Well, the riverhooves aren’t the smartest of creatures, but they’re still not going to just stand there while I approach. It’s easiest to ambush them from the water.”

“You got your stitches wet,” Jongdae frowns.

He goes to grab the iodine as Minseok beckons Ssehun to lower his torso enough that Minseok can dry his hair. The bulge in Ssehun’s snakey abdomen makes him less flexible in that area, so he ends up lying his human torso down against his coils while Minseok dries his hair and Jongdae carefully cleans his incision site.

“This is quite the service,” Ssehun laughs as the pair of humans fusses over him.

“A prince should be used to this type of thing,” Jongdae says.

“When the clutch starts out with thirty princes and princesses, being royal-born isn’t so special,” Ssehun dismisses. “The regent gets all the attention, and so do the princes and princesses that seem most likely to succeed the throne. The last hatched is a bit indulged—I was the last that Chaerin attacked—but I certainly did not have two handsome men rubbing me down.” 

Jongdae feels his face heat. “Being a lamia prince sounds like it sucks.”

“There were perks—no one else was allowed to hurt me or hinder my growth aside from my siblings, so unlike other last-hatched, I attained my full adult size. And because of that, I was considered worthy of fertilizing a clutch by several court attendants.”

“Food and sex, the right of royalty,” Minseok laughs. “Well. We’re happy to be your new court attendants.”

“No clutch-fertilizing, though,” Jongdae adds, whether in jest or in warning he’s not entirely sure.

Ssehun laughs. “Of course not—our kinds cannot interbreed even were you females. But I have fulfilled my duty as a sire already and have no further urges in that regard. We barely know each other but you are already better company than most of the backstabbing courtiers who twine around the royals. I am more than happy to spend my life with two kind and lovely humans instead.”

He leans up and reaches out both arms, gathering them both close to his bare chest. “Thank you again for helping me. I feel much better already.”

Ssehun’s skin is cool but Jongdae can hear the slow and steady beating of his heart. So he joins Minseok in wrapping his arms around their new housemate. They may be incredibly different—so different that it still freaks Jongdae out to think about it too much—but they’re still alike in the important things.

# ♡꯳♡

Minseok rather likes waking up each morning in his husband’s embrace. He does _not_ like waking up in the middle of the night to his husband’s panicked yell.

His own panic rises when he opens his eyes to realize it’s not his husband squeezing him close. He’s wrapped in the coils of a giant fucking snake.

An undignified squeak may or may not have escaped Minseok’s lips before he recognizes Ssehun’s unique coloration—and his fingers carding through his hair. He’s evidently stroking Jongdae’s head, too, because although Minseok can’t really move to verify this thought, Jongdae’s yell is now merely a disconcerted whine.

“Ssehun! You can’t fucking say you’re not going to prey on us and then try to kill us in our sleep!”

Ssehun chuckles. “I am not preying on you, silly human. Were I set on that, you would not have woken up at all.”

“So, uh. Why are you squeezing us like this?” Minseok asks, figuring that he shouldn’t be surprised that the lamia was capable of slithering up the spiral staircase and opening their bedroom door. Probably lucky that their bedroom has a low, sturdy sleeping platform rather than a western-style elevated bed, or they’d likely have woken up in a collapsed heap.

“I was cold,” Ssehun explains. “Your mammal bodies are nice and warm.”

“…So this is your way of cuddling?”

“Is this not pleasant?”

“Not really,” Minseok huffs. “I mean, we’re not opposed to cuddling with you—it’s getting colder every day and our heating isn’t the best—but can we maybe do it, like. In a way we can actually move a little?”

“And see each other?” Jongdae adds. 

“Oh. Of course.”

Ssehun’s coils shift and undulate and then the humans are cradled together in the center of the bed, Ssehun’s human torso—now clad in one of Minseok’s oversized sweatshirts—is draped diagonally across them, arms around them both.

“Better?” he asks as he squeezes a little tighter with arms and coils.

“Much,” Minseok replies after a look at Jongdae’s relieved face.

He wraps one arm around his husband’s shoulders and the other around Ssehun’s waist. Both of them relax into Minseok’s embrace, making him chuckle. He and Jongdae take turns soothing each other, but to have his touch comfort what many people would consider a monster is a new experience.

“Hyung,” Jongdae mumbles. “There’s a lamia in our bed.”

“I did notice that.”

“Is this going to be how it always is?”

Ssehun’s torso lifts a bit. “Would you mind? It gets a bit lonely down there by myself, even when it’s warm enough.”

“I guess not?” Jongdae answers. “This is pretty comfortable, actually.” He snuggles closer, sliding his thigh beneath Ssehun’s torso and across Minseok’s hips, resting on his side so he can comfortably drape an arm over Ssehun’s shoulders. “Er… Might get a bit awkward when it comes to, um. Marital relations.”

Minseok laughs. “We can play in the shower or something.”

“What about morning makeouts?”

“Those will be rather more complicated to continue.”

“What is a morning makeout?”

A fond smile tugs at Minseok’s lips. “Jongdae likes to drag me to the bathroom just long enough to sleepily brush our teeth, then crawl back into bed and kiss each other for a while.”

“Ah. I like kissing—I wouldn’t mind releasing your warm little bodies long enough for your human hygiene.”

“Do you not brush your teeth?”

“I clean my fangs after I eat, but I don’t eat very often. I’m ready for kissing whenever you are.”

“Huh.” Minseok supposes the lack of things like chocolate in the lamia’s diet probably has something to do with it.

“Okay but, uh. We wouldn’t be kissing _you.”_

Ssehun pushes back enough to pout at Jongdae. “Why not? I’m really good at it.”

“Jongdae and I are married,” Minseok explains when his husband just opens and shuts his mouth repeatedly. “Married humans don’t generally kiss anyone except their spouse.”

“But I’m really cute,” Ssehun points out. 

“You are,” Minseok agrees. “But Jongdae and I chose to belong only to each other.”

“Well, you hadn’t met me when you made that decision,” Ssehun says, smiling down at them. “Now that you have, the three of us belong to each other.”

“That’s not how it works,” Jongdae laughs.

Ssehun tilts his pointed chin. “Why not?” 

Minseok watches his husband carefully. He’s always been a little possessive—which Minseok likes—but he’s never really been the jealous type, which Minseok appreciates. Jongdae wants the world to know that Minseok is his, but has never been threatened by anything Minseok does with anyone else. Flirting, dancing, cuddling on the couch with friends, Jongdae only ever smiles to see Minseok happy. He’s always been secure in Minseok’s love for him to be entirely unconcerned about his relationship with anyone else.

Then again, since Minseok and Jongdae got together, nobody else has ever tried to kiss either of them, except for their various friends, usually female, trading cheek or forehead kisses. No one’s ever suggested even a smooch on the lips, much less making out.

“I mean,” Jongdae says, looking over at Minseok. His eyes search Minseok’s face, often landing on his lips. 

Surprised that his husband is even considering it, Minseok isn’t sure what to feel. Jongdae has always been so devoted that the idea of him kissing anyone else hadn’t even crossed Minseok’s mind. Now Jongdae looks a little lost, eyebrows kipping up in the middle, perhaps concerned about Minseok’s lack of immediate objection. But Jongdae’s not making an immediate objection, either.

Maybe it’s because in the few short days that Ssehun’s been actually awake during the days, he’s fit into their life rather seamlessly. He comes with them on trail checks, moving surprisingly soundlessly and astonishingly invisibly through the dense forest, his mottled coloration that looks so flashy in full sun actually mimicking well the sun-dappled underbrush. The two hikers they’d come across had never even known Ssehun was there, and the lamia had taken much joy at popping out at Minseok and Jongdae once they were out of sight. 

And at home he’s an endearing nuisance, his ten-meter body often stretching through doorways and generally being a trip hazard. But he’s also sweetly interested in helping them prepare their “cute little human food” or watching “silly human shows” from their satellite-internet provided streaming video service. They haven’t exactly been cuddly prior to this, but already it’s hard to imagine life without Ssehun.

So Minseok is reluctant to tell him there are areas of their life he’s excluded from even though adding a third person to their relationship was never on Minseok’s to-do list. Or even his fantasies. He can’t say he’s in love with Ssehun—they still hardly know each other. But he is very handsome and rather sweet despite his tendency to make spoiled little princely assumptions, such as that he’s welcome in their bed at all. Or that of course they should all kiss each other. 

At a complete loss for what to say or do or even to feel, Minseok leans over and kisses his husband.

# ♡꯳♡

Jongdae responds immediately, a distinct note of relief escaping the back of his throat. Ever since he’d blinked those cat eyes at him above an enigmatic smile and a cup of coffee, Jongdae has never wanted anyone but Minseok. And Minseok, for all his flirting, has never seemed to want anyone but Jongdae.

Now they’re kissing in the scaly embrace of a lamia who just said he’d like to make out with them both.

Ssehun squeezes them a little tighter. “You’re both so pretty. If you must keep your human customs, I’m still happy to watch you kiss and enjoy your warmth.”

Minseok moans into Jongdae’s mouth a little and Jongdae chuckles a bit in return, not at all surprised that his take-my-shirt-off-on-the-dancefloor husband is into being watched. He is a little surprised that he’s rather into it himself, but then again he’s always proud of how well they can wreck each other. Perhaps it’ll be fun to show that off.

It would be weird or even rather cruel if Ssehun wasn’t into it, but he seems content to just cuddle them while they make out. Ssehun’s chest is broad and his arms are strong and soon the lamia has them rearranged so that they’re making out while pressed tight against him. Coils loop around them more tightly, but they feel cozy this time instead of panic-inducing. Jongdae doesn’t really mind Ssehun’s snakey aspects per se, but he’d felt rather smothered waking up wrapped in scales. Now that he’s more awake (despite the fact that it’s ass-o-clock in the morning) and all three of their torsos are wrapped up together, Jongdae feels affection rather than discomfort.

There are arms wrapped around him and hands in his hair and Jongdae’s not sure whose is whose but quickly decides he doesn’t care. He feels good, Minseok’s practically purring against him, and he quickly gets lost in Minseok’s mouth.

“Hyung,” he sighs, loving the renewed enthusiasm he gets in return. 

“You call him that a lot,” Ssehun notes, voice rumbling through his coils and into their bodies. “We don’t have that term of endearment in my colony.”

“It’s supposed to be a term of respect,” Minseok says, but if he’s trying to be stern he’s failing. 

“Respect, admiration, closeness, affection,” Jongdae defends, smiling against his husband’s lips. “From a younger guy to an older one. Someone who feels like family.”

“Ah. So Minseok is older?”

“By a few years.”

“I was hatched twenty-three years ago. Am I older?”

“No,” Minseok says, turning to face Ssehun as Jongdae kisses his neck. “I’m twenty-seven. Dae’s twenty-five.”

“I am still the last hatched,” Ssehun laughs. “So I should call you both hyung.”

“If you want,” Minseok chuckles. “You don’t have to, though.”

“I like this family much better than my former one. You’re both so warm and haven’t tried to kill me. I love my new human hyungs.”

“We like you, too,” Minseok says, then sucks in a hiss as Jongdae nips at his throat. “You’re so lucky I can’t reach your ass right now to pinch it.”

“Stop talking and kiss me, hyung,” Jongdae whines, having decided that if he’s going to be awake at this hour he’s going to claim compensation.

“Such a bratty little dongsaeng,” Minseok chides, but he gives Jongdae those edible lips again.

Jongdae feasts. He can wiggle enough in Ssehun’s grip to rub himself up against Minseok, seeking friction on his rapidly-filling cock. There’s a part of his mind that’s trying to tell him this whole scenario is weird, that he shouldn’t be rutting up against his husband while being held in the arms (and coils) of someone else, but he finds it hard to care when despite the layers of clothing between them, it feels so fucking good.

Maybe he’s more sensitive because Ssehun is watching them so closely, loosening his coils further so that Jongdae can work the arm not around the lamia down between them, reaching for Minseok’s dick in his sleep shorts. He swallows his husband’s happy moan when he wraps his fingers around his prize.

A moment later, Minseok’s free hand is down Jongdae’s shorts as well and then they’re rutting into each other’s fists like teenagers who’ve never heard of lube. Ssehun’s hands are in his hair and Minseok’s mouth is on his throat and there are coils everywhere and there’s a soft moist fluttering against his cheekbone that is far less concerning when Jongdae realizes it’s Ssehun’s tongue.

“Tasting me again?” he accuses.

“Your arousal is delicious.”

That should be creepy. Instead, along with a twist of Minseok’s wrist and a particularly vigorous application of lips and tongue just beneath his jawline, it’s enough to make Jongdae climax. He hadn’t felt it sneaking up on him so it’s quite the surprise to suddenly be tossed into ecstasy, groaning obscenities and Minseok’s name and, to his further surprise, even Ssehun’s.

Minseok’s triumphant snicker turns into an answering groan of pleasure when Ssehun’s tongue flicks out to tickle the shell of his ear, treating Jongdae to the always-breathtaking sight of his husband’s face in the moonlight as he comes undone.

“That… is not what I expected to happen when I kissed you,” Minseok pants, resting his forehead against Jongdae’s. 

“Me either.”

“That makes three of us,” Ssehun adds. “But I can’t say I’m at all unhappy.”

“Do you, uh, want us to help you out or something?” Jongdae blurts, continuing to surprise himself. Panicked, his eyes lock on Minseok’s face. “I-I mean—” 

But Minseok just smiles. “It seems only polite, considering that was surprisingly hot for us. Well, at least for me.”

“Me, too,” Jongdae adds.

“I am more than content. You’re so warm now—it will be easy to fall asleep.”

Minseok wrinkles his nose. “Well. We need to change our shorts.”

“Just wiggle out of them,” Ssehun yawns. “Let me touch more of your nicely heated skin.”

Minseok lifts a brow at Jongdae but Jongdae only shrugs, already working his waistband over his hips. Smiling as he follows suit, Minseok squirms around as well, then tangles his legs with Dae’s when they’re bare.

His last thought before drifting off is that it’s surprisingly comfortable to sleep naked in a lamia’s coils. 

# ♡꯳♡

Despite their midnight adventures, the alarm clock goes off when it always does. Yawning, Minseok wriggles from Ssehun’s coils to stand and stretch, smirking when he notices someone giving his morning wood a curious gaze. He feels heat rise to his cheeks, but after last night, shame seems pointless.

“Like what you see, big guy?” Minseok turns a bit so Ssehun can get a better eyeful if he wants. 

Ssehun’s expression is quizzical. “Is, um. Is that… it?” 

Minseok feels his face heat. “What do you mean?” he asks, resisting the urge to cover himself despite the fact that he’s always been confident about his equipment.

“Well, where’s the other one?”

“What other one?” Minseok asks. “Do you want to see Jongdae’s, too?”

“Here, just let me sleep,” Jongdae mumbles, squirming around to display his own morning arousal while covering his head with the tip of Ssehun’s tail.

Ssehun looks back and forth between the two dicks on display, then sort of retreats into his coils. 

“Huh, I didn’t think humans would be so different below the waist considering how similar we are above it,” he says, cheeks adorably pink.

“It can’t be that different,” Minseok says, rubbing Ssehun’s shoulder reassuringly. 

“Yes, it can.” Ssehun nods vigorously.

Minseok blinks. He has a vague idea snakes have a slit in their scales that their junk comes out of, but aside from that— “In what way?”

“Uh, well, I have two dicks, they’re as long as my forearm, flared at the ends, and covered in spikes.”

Jongdae sits straight up, tail falling from his face to his shoulder. He blinks in sleepy alarm at Ssehun, then sets his concerned gaze on Minseok.

“Well then,” Minseok says, hand frozen on Ssehun’s shoulder. “In that case, let’s um. Let’s _not_ do that.”

“Yeah, there is no way to safely help you out,” Jongdae says, eyes wide as he shakes his sleep-tousled head. “I mean, after last night I think we’re both fine with you joining in, but we don’t have scales or anything—we couldn’t even grind on you without, like, a kevlar condom or something.”

Ssehun smiles. “Oh, you don’t have to worry about any of that. Unlike you sensitive boys, I won’t even get hard unless there’s a fertile female lamia around releasing the right sort of pheromones.”

“Oh,” Minseok says. He feels like he should be incredibly relieved about that but instead a strange wave of disappointment washes over him.

He’s pulled into Ssehun’s long arms and a kiss is pressed to the top of his head. “Don’t look so sad, hyung. For lamias, sex is about reproduction, not bonding. It’s certainly not about love or affection. We’re all tangled up in a knot for days sometimes, and everything locks together so it’s impossible to be comfortable. Fertilizing a clutch is an honor, but I’m happy to be done with all of that.”

Ssehun nuzzles against Jongdae’s hair. “I want to cuddle and kiss you both all the time, but I have no desire to have sex with you.”

Minseok is sure his befuddlement must be painted on his face as broadly as it’s written on Jongdae’s.

Ssehun shakes his head at them, smiling that cute little smile that Minseok’s developing an interest in pressing his lips against. 

“I don’t need that from you, but I know you need that from each other—if you think I couldn’t taste what you’ve been doing in here while I slept in the living room, you are entirely mistaken. But there’s no need for shame—In fact, I’m thrilled. I want my hyungs to be happy. I want to watch you make each other feel good, maybe help a bit, wrap my two horny humans up so I can enjoy your elevated body heat and your happy little noises as you do your cute little mammal things.”

A beat of silence passes before Minseok starts laughing at the combination of relief and offense flickering over Jongdae’s face.

“Hyung,” Jongdae whines, wiggling closer to claim Ssehun’s other shoulder. “Hyung, he said we’re _cute_ when we fuck.”

“Dae,” Minseok chuckles. “You once giggled and booped my nose right as I was about to come.”

Jongdae laughs. “That’s because you scrunched up your face and wrinkled your nose and it was really—um. Sexdorable?”

Ssehun wraps his arms around both of them and squeezes them against his broad chest. “See?” he says, smirk entirely audible. “This is the kind of cute I want close-up views of.”

“I think we’d be more than okay with that, sweet baby serpent,” Minseok murmurs against Ssehun’s pec as Jongdae hums his agreement.

“I told you—I reached my full growth. I’m like, six times longer than either of you.”

“And several years younger,” Jongdae reminds him. “I’ve recently discovered how nice it feels to be called ‘hyung,’ you whippersnapper. Don’t take this away from me.”

“Oh, fine,” Ssehun sighs. “I’ll accept my fate as the last hatched, _hyung.”_

Minseok smiles as Jongdae makes a satisfied noise in the back of his throat. 

“You’re such a good dongsaeng, sweet Ssehunnie.”

“‘Dongsaeng’ is like ‘hyung?’” Ssehun asks, head tilted down at Jongdae. “Another endearment?”

“It’s more about affection than respect,” Jongdae sighs. “Still, it’s better than ‘you ass’ which is what I usually get for waking him up in the middle of the night.”

“You have a really cute ass, though, Dae,” Minseok points out as he pulls on some clothes. “Which of my favorite dongsaengs wants to help me with breakfast?”

Ssehun wraps Jongdae up with the last third of his body, allowing his torso to get a head start down to the kitchen while Jongdae can only writhe and whine until he’s released. He chases after Ssehun immediately, but Minseok can’t follow for several minutes, reduced to a puddle of laughter on the bedroom floor.

# ♡꯳♡

The next few days are full of testing the shift in their dynamics. Jongdae’s surprised at how surreal but natural everything is. Ssehun has wrapped around their relationship just as he’d wrapped around every other aspect of their lives, suddenly but thoroughly, not tight enough to smother but tight enough to be secure, to uphold and strengthen what’s already there rather than crush it.

And Jongdae has to admit having two mouths on him is rather nice, though they’ve banned Ssehun from more than forked-tongue-heavy kisses due to his terrifying teeth. Even if he didn’t mean to hurt them, his mouth isn’t designed to just suck on something and then release it. Anything that goes inside only comes out by going all the way through, and Jongdae rather likes his and Minseok’s delicate mammalian junk right where it is.

But it’s also nice to have two extra arms to hold Minseok still, for a forked tongue to tickle ears and neck as Ssehun murmurs about how tasty their arousal is, for a loop of tail to hold Minseok’s feet in place. Then Jongdae can tease him with a hot mouth and probing fingers, and Minseok has no choice but to endure their attentions—unless he says the word ‘mongoose,’ which always makes Ssehun curl a lip in disgust even though he’s way too big for a mongoose to actually threaten. Or unless Minseok starts tasting of pain or distress rather than arousal and frustration—Ssehun has no desire to actually hurt them, despite his occasional references to human-hunting.

The lamia may have been born a prince, but he proves to be very dedicated to pleasing his new hyungs, happy to help them out around the park, in the kitchen, and especially in the bedroom. Jongdae’s surprised at how hot it is to just have Ssehun hold them close and murmur comments on their lovemaking, but when Minseok gets the idea to have Ssehun direct the action, things become incredibly electric.

“Kiss each other for me,” Ssehun says, voice low and thick. “I want you both hot and bothered. I want to feel that extra warmth when I hold you.”

Minseok smiles against Jongdae’s moan. Jongdae can feel the curve of his lips, knows how amused Minseok is at how weak Jongdae is for this. Jongdae’s stopped being ashamed, just doing his best to wipe the smirk off of Minseok’s gorgeous face by taking him apart per Ssehun’s instructions.

“Yes. That’s it, hyungs,” Ssehun says, smile evident in his voice. “I love how well you know each other. How you crave each other. It makes me feel good, that I get to be a part of this love.”

“We do love you, Ssehunnie,” Minseok confirms as Jongdae marks up his neck. “Our sweet serpent.”

“Show me those cute little mammal dicks,” Ssehun commands. “Show me how hard you are for each other.”

“For you, too,” Jongdae says, disrupting the suction against Minseok’s skin to twist around so his arousal is on display. “Wanna get so hot for our Ssehunnie.”

With a hum of agreement, Minseok shifts, too, pressing his leaking length up against Jongdae’s. Ssehun’s hands are big enough to wrap around both of them in a very satisfying way, especially when lube is involved. So Jongdae moans happily when slick fingers curve around his cock, pulling it against Minseok’s and stroking them both.

“Your skin is so warm already,” Ssehun practically purrs. “I’m going to make my hyungs come so hard, make both of you spill over for each other and for me.”

“For you both,” Minseok agrees, snapping his hips to drive his cock through the slick tunnel of Ssehun’s fist. “Feels so fucking good when you hold us like this.”

“So good,” Jongdae agrees, thrusting in a counterrhythm with Minseok to keep their cocks in constant motion, rubbing against each other and the curve of Ssehun’s palm. 

“Yes, good hyungs, rut like the horny little mammals you are. Come on, Minseok-hyung, you can go harder than that. Jongdae-hyung, pick up the pace, that’s it, yes.”

Ssehun tightens around them, coils around their bodies and hand around their cocks. He leans down to steal a kiss from each of them, humming happily at their little moans. “Such good hyungs,” he murmurs. “Now come for me. Spill your pleasure so I can taste it in the air.”

Somehow the idea of Ssehun being able to taste various chemical signals from his body has gone from creepy to arousing, and almost immediately after the lamia says he wants to taste their orgasm, Jongdae gives him what he wants. Minseok follows while Jongdae’s still pulsing, and a glance down between their bodies results in the rare treat of seeing both of them spurt at the same time.”

“You know, tasting one of you is good, but both of you together is a flavor fit for a regent.”

“We do try,” Minseok huffs, “to please our pretty python prince.”

“Our sweet baby serpent,” Jongdae adds, “pulling his human prey apart.”

This earns them both more kisses and a tighter squeeze from the surrounding coils. “My cute little mammal hyungs,” Ssehun croons, wiping them up with one of the flannels Minseok keeps in a drawer by the bed. “So warm and soft.”

“Definitely soft now,” Jongdae laughs, feeling floaty and boneless, unsure of his own edges but unconcerned.

With Ssehun wrapped around them, Jongdae’s sure that he and Minseok are exactly where they’re supposed to be.

# ♡꯳♡


End file.
